


Verso

by whiteroses77



Series: Well Versed [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Smallville
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-31
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-12 06:14:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4468364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiteroses77/pseuds/whiteroses77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something unsettling comes to Bruce’s attention that causes friction between Bruce and Clark regarding their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Last in the Well Versed series.

TITLE: Verso 1/3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiteroses77 (whiterose)  
RATING: Anyone  
WORD COUNT: 2,781  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Something unsettling comes to Bruce’s attention that causes friction between Bruce and Clark regarding their relationship.  
Author’s note: Last in the Well Versed series. 

~S~

It was another Sunday morning in Clark Kent’s apartment and they were lounging on the couch together shirtless. Clark was wearing his pyjamas bottoms and Bruce only wore his silk boxer shorts. They were both laying down the length of the couch. Bruce was using Clark as a pillow. He was lying back against Clark’s chest. He had found his niche between Clark’s spread thighs. They hadn’t bothered getting up as such, just moved from the bed to the couch, with diversions to the fridge now and again. They were watching the morning news on the TV and relaxing. 

As Bruce guided a piece of cherry tart to his mouth, he asked, “So does your mom send you home with these little treats every time you visit her?” 

Clark grinned and explained, “No, I usually eat them while I’m there. I just thought I’d save some for you.”

Bruce bit into the puff pastry and the loose flakes fell onto his bare chest. He paid them no mind. He hummed around a mouthful. “This is indulgent, but that’s always the story when I’m with you.”

He chuckled and kissed Bruce’s temple.

Then his boyfriend asked, “So you talk about me to your mother?”

“Huh-huh.”

“You told her about me?”

He revealed, “My mom has known about you from the day we met.”

Bruce looked surprised and a splotch of cherry filling fell out and joined the flakes of pastry on his chest. Clark chuckled, “Dirty boy.”

Clark used his finger to collect it up and then sucked his finger clean. Bruce glanced back at him and watched him doing it. Clark leered playfully and then he asked, “What do you think of the tart?”

His lover mumbled, “It’s good.” And then took another bite. Then he offered it over his shoulder, Clark grinned and took a bite and then Bruce pulled it back and ate the rest.

As Bruce finished the pastry, their attention was drawn back to the TV. On the news there was a report about a serious emergency situation happening in Central City. Bruce glanced over his shoulder at him and wondered, “Don’t you ever feel like going to things like this when you hear about them?”

Clark shrugged, “It’s tempting, but I’ve got to believe that Flash can handle the situation, and if he can’t I’d like to think he’d contact me.”

Bruce appeared thoughtful, “I guess so. I know I wouldn’t like it if someone turned up in Gotham and started interfering in my cases.”

He raised a goading eyebrow, and his lover rolled his eyes, “You’ve helped me out I know you have, but you’re a special case.”

Clark kissed his lover’s bare shoulder tenderly. 

Then his lover asked, “So how many of the others do you know, apart from Oliver and obviously the Flash?” 

He revealed, “Quite a few, I mean I’m not buddies with all of them, I’m acquainted with them but there’s only a few that I’d count as close friends.”

Bruce murmured, “Plus one.”

Clark chuckled against his lover’s ear, “I’m not supposed to be here with Batman.”

Bruce groaned softly at the tickle of his hot breath against his ear. “Those were the old rules.” Bruce closed his eyes and lolled his head to the side while saying drowsily, “Your friends are impressive, but they’re nothing next to you Kal-El.”

He sucked at Bruce’s ear lobe and smiled against the shell of his ear, “Thanks.”

His lover groaned and turned his head and met his gaze, “I mean it.”

Clark nodded, “I know you do.”

He leaned in and he kissed Bruce’s lips. As Bruce twisted his body, turning over without breaking their lip lock, the stray puff pastry flakes fell onto Clark’s chest. Feeling them, he sniggered into the kiss. Bruce pulled back, and gazed at him and then down and realised his humour. Clark grinned, and teased, “Dirty boy.”

Clark laughed delightedly as Bruce set about picking up the flakes with his tongue. He watched as Bruce got lower and lower, at his waistband of his pyjamas, His lover gazed down at Clark’s crotch, the tent in the material of his pyjamas. He looked up and he leered at him. Then he lifted up and showed him the obscene tent into his own boxer shorts, which were barely containing what they held. Clark goaded, “What do you want me to do with that, huh?”

Bruce braced his hands and leaned back up and pressed his lips against Clark’s and then he growled softly into his mouth, “No it’s your turn, I just wanted to show you how you make me feel.”

Clark grinned at him, and laid back and watched as his lover reached for his waistband before bowing his head.

God, Clark was beginning to love Sundays.

~B~

It was nighttime, and Robinson Park had been turned into a jungle, the citizens of Gotham were scared to enter, not that they’d ever felt exactly safe going in there at night anyway. He’d tracked her down. Both plants and men did her bidding, the greenery couldn’t tell her secrets but the men had no problems. She controlled them and they worshiped her. They even bragged about her all-powerfulness, so enamoured that they weren’t worried that she’d get caught, so they revealed her secrets. 

He sent sharp tipped Batarangs out to shear the foliage and make a path through. He heard her screams from a distance as if it was herself getting sliced. He didn’t know if she really felt those blades or she was just a drama queen. 

He finally made it through. He found the inner realm of the park, clear and landscaped by only her will. Night-blooming Cereus was showing its flowers. The sweet smelling Mirabilis Jalapa brightened the dark garden. Bio luminance fungi provided light, glow-worms, and fireflies too. Batman thought momentary that the normal citizens would enjoy such a dark Eden. His musings were interrupted as he found her standing proudly before a garland made throne. Her body willowy, her hair the colour of an exotic flower, she smiled slowly at seeing his admiration. She remarked, “I see you admire natural beauty.”

He admitted, “You are beautiful, Ms Isley. However that’s not going to stop me from…”

She walked towards him asking, “You really think you will be able to leave this place now that you are inside?”

“I got in.” he replied lowly.

“My faithful servants gave their lives to allow you in, because I willed it. I won’t ask them for that sacrifice again.”

“You have no choice. The city of Gotham won’t allow you and your plants to control the city.”

She laughed softly, “Control, you think you can stay in control…” she leaned in and said seductively, “My plants like someone to talk to them, they are lonely…” she leaned in further and Batman found himself entranced, curious, he knew he shouldn’t let her near… “You don’t want to be lonely either; you want to stay here with me.” 

She kissed him softly. Then she pulled away and gazed at him expectedly. 

He smirked and asked, “Did you think something was going to happen?”

“How?” she demanded.

“I think they call it strength of will. Your pheromones don’t work on me, Poison Ivy.”

She frowned in confusion, then she leaned in again but instead of kissing him, she breathed in deeply and smelled at his skin. She whispered, “Willpower I think not. I can smell something alien inside you.” 

Batman frowned behind the cowl and asked in confusion, “What are you talking about?”

Poison Ivy pulled back and she tut-tutted, “You’ve been eating something you shouldn’t. The essence is implacable, I can’t overcome it.”

He swallowed hard at the implication, at the personal knowledge that Ivy had come to possess. Ivy turned and slinked away, saying over her shoulder, “It’s a pity I would’ve enjoyed having a worthy guest, but now you have to die.”

Batman tensed and stepped into a fighting stance at the threat. Then Ivy’s plants, the vines stormed the peaceful enclave and came towards him like a thousand tentacles. He fought, and cut and thrust. He glanced back at the opening he had made to get in and saw it grow over as if it had never even been there. He continued to fight. He fought towards their queen knowing they would not hurt him if he had her as a hostage. He saw a group of men - thralls surround her, park workers, a uniformed policeman, and a couple joggers wearing sweats. They were innocent men their only crime was not being able to withstand Poison Ivy’s pheromones. He remembered his own escape from her enthrallment. He was definitely going to question his lover the next time they saw each other.

A vine grasped his wrist, and as he went cut it away, another wrapped around the other wrist. He struggled and the vines tugged, and pulled and tried to split him apart like a wishbone. He screamed at the pain and the pressure racking his body. Then suddenly the tightness disappeared and two blackened stumps fell to the floor in front of him. Surprised, Batman gazed up and saw Superman hovering above. Superman nodded to him and asked, “Do you need any help?”

He almost smiled in relief, “That would be great.”

Superman came down, using his heat-vision to drive away the growing vines and landed at his side. At Superman’s display, Ivy called out and halted her vines. She screeched at Superman, “That is enough!”

Superman held her gaze steely eyed and warned, “Unless you want me to do some extensive pruning you should just give up.”

Poison Ivy approached and asked, “You are supposed to help the living things of the Earth isn’t that your pledge, why would you hurt defenceless…”

Batman growled, “Your plants are hardly defenceless, Ivy.”

Ivy glared at him, and returned her gaze to Superman and approached closely. Superman gazed down at the living Venus flytrap. She gazed up at him, an almost pleading look in her eyes. Then her nose flared and she breathed deeply. Then she shook her head and stumbled away. She glanced back sharply and said vehemently, “Invasive species…” she glanced at Batman, “It’s his essence you contain. That’s what I smelled on you.”

Superman and Batman exchanged glances. He saw some sort of knowingness there in Superman’s eyes. It wasn’t the time to ask questions. Batman declared, “So you can’t control either of us, and he can lay waste to your plants in seconds, so what choice do you have but surrender?”

Ivy closed her eyes in defeat, then her mouth was moving, speaking but not to them, to her plants. Then she whispered, “Thank you my sisters.”

Then suddenly the plants attacked again. 

Batman sent out his Batarangs, and fought the vines. Superman used both his heat-vision and arctic breath to combat the jungle of plants. It didn’t take long to subdue the foliage but when stillness came back to Robinson Park, Poison Ivy was nowhere to be seen. She’d escaped in the melee, her plants giving their lives for her freedom.

The men who had been thralls were on the ground unconscious. Within minutes, they were waking up with no memory of their servitude to the twisted Earth mother. Superman gentled their concerns and sent them home. Batman spoke to Jim Gordon about what had transpired, leaving out the personal information.

Then Batman and Superman met each other’s gaze across the park, and they approached each other near the Batmobile. Batman said, “Thanks for your help.”

Superman tilted his head and smiled, “When I heard you were in trouble it was never an option not coming for you.”

Batman was gratified by that sentiment, but right now, he was more interested in knowing about what Ivy had said. He said, “When she kissed me…”

Superman’s jaw tensed in anger, “She kissed you?”

He nodded, “She can control pheromones, and she was trying to enthral me like those other men.”

Superman’s jaw relaxed, but he said, “You seemed fine, when I got here.”

“Exactly, it didn’t work. I thought it was my own willpower but…”

The other hero grinned and teased, “You think you’re so tough don’t you?”

He normally enjoyed his gentle humour but not right now, “She said I had your essence inside me, that’s why it didn’t work.”

His clandestine lover’s eyes widened and then that glimpse of understanding was there again. He asked harshly, “You didn’t warn me that swallowing your…”

“I didn’t think about it at the time, but I didn’t realise my blood would…” Superman began.

Batman exclaimed, “Your blood, what are you talking about?”

Superman looked surprised, “That’s what we’re talking about isn’t it, the day we met you kissed me, my lip was bleeding, you must’ve swallowed it…”

He grumbled, “Damn I thought she’d meant…” he glanced at his lover bashfully.

Superman chuckled softly, “You thought she meant…?”

He stepped forward and whispered huskily, “Your come.”

The family-safe hero blushed and glanced around seeing the people at the other ends of the park, “Not here.”

“They couldn’t guess what we’re talking about.” He replied.

“Still.” he said shyly.

He nodded, “Still… so you think it’s your blood that’s in my system?”

“Yeah I guess so, I mean, how was your health after the kiss?”

He frowned, as he remembered that day, “No my health was fine, great actually I was raring to get out on the streets that night.”

Superman winced and nodded along, “I thought so.”

Realisation came to him, “You mean your blood gave me a boost, it wasn’t the adrenaline from helping you?”

“Probably a little of both actually, but I know my blood has a positive impact on people and improves their health.”

It was a huge thing to find out, that you had a remnant of your lover’s blood actively inside you, he asked, “Is there any way to get it out?”

Superman shrugged, “Apart from a complete blood transfusion.”

“You think it’s dangerous?”

“It hasn’t harmed you yet.”

He joked, “It’s a good job I’m not a vampire then. I’d probably get addicted to you.”

Superman shrugged and teased, “I thought you already were.”

“Feels like it sometimes.” He confessed. Then a terrible idea came to him, “You don’t think I am addicted to you, maybe that’s why I can’t stay away from you against my better judgement.”

Superman’s jaw tensed and his reply was sharp, “Against your better judgement, nice thanks for that.”

His reaction annoyed him and he spoke lowly, “I never lied to you.” 

The other hero gritted his teeth and spoke through them, “I thought we’d gotten over this crap months ago.”

He snapped back, “I warned you, you knew it wasn’t a good idea for us to get involved, you said it yourself.”

His lover shouted incredulously, “Is that what you still think after all this time?” 

Batman glared at him and then glanced around the park, and saw they had gained some spectators, including Jim Gordon and the Gotham P.D. He growled, “Not here damn you!”

Superman glowered at him, “You don’t want people watching? You don’t want me to cause a scene?” 

He turned around and stalked over to the Batmobile. Batman tensed his jaw, guessing his intentions and he growled, “Not my goddamned car!” 

He ignored him. Superman picked it up with his super-strength, and he flipped it over onto its roof. The cops in the park cheered and catcalled. 

He yelled, “My fucking car!”

Superman glanced back over his shoulder and sneered at him, and then he pushed at it and set it spinning like a top on its roof. “Now they’ve got something to look at!” Superman approached him again and got in his face, “I guess we’re over then. Have a nice life.”

Then he shot off into the sky, his trajectory towards Metropolis. 

Batman was just glad the car was armoured and that Superman hadn’t decided to squish it like a tin can. As the spinning Batmobile slowed down, Jim approached him, “I know you’re a hard case but how the hell did you piss off Superman?”

He confessed lowly, “He pissed me off first.”

Jim said wryly, “I think he won the argument.”

His gaze followed Superman’s path in the sky, and he smirked, “No, this isn’t over.”

 

To be continued


	2. Chapter 2

TITLE: Verso 2/3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,246  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Bruce has to figure out what to do next, after Clark leaves him. 

~B~

Bruce rapped at the door of the apartment in Metropolis, it was hours later after the incident in Gotham but he was still pissed off, the whole point of Batman was to appear dangerous and mysterious, not to be the source of amusement for the Gotham police department. There was no answer, so he knocked harder. He growled under his breath, “I know you can hear me damn you.”

There still wasn’t a response, and he growled, “Unless lives are at stake you better open the door to your apartment right now!”

He didn’t need to break and enter; he reached into his pocket for his key to the door. He lined the key up; he unlocked the door and entered. Bruce was adamant that Clark was going to make it up to him, preferably with his mouth, or maybe his ass. He found the apartment in darkness. He frowned in consternation. He’d have thought he’d be back by now, unless there was something serious happening somewhere in the world that Bruce didn’t know about. He shook his head and then went over to the desk in the corner of the living room. He found a piece of paper and a pen. He jotted down a note. He tossed the pen back on the desk. Then he put the note on the coffee table in the middle of the living room so it wouldn’t be missed.

He glanced around the apartment briefly and then he headed for the door, he locked up and then he returned home to Gotham.

~*~

A couple days later, Alfred entered the cave, just in time to see Bruce chuck a crumpled piece of the Batmobile’s roof across the cave. He heard Alfred’s gasp of surprise, he looked up and saw he had barely missed his guardian’s legs. He winced, and mumbled, “Sorry.”

The old man came over and inspected the damage. He asked, “I know you are displeased about the damage, although you have done worse to it before. You seem upset about something else Master Bruce.”

He sighed and jumped up and sat down on the hood. He picked at a smudge of oil on his black jeans. He glanced up and saw Alfred was waiting patiently, while eyeing the stain. Bruce heaved another sigh, “It’s about Clark.”

His guardian raised an eyebrow, “Your young man, what about him?”

Bruce pinched his lips and shrugged, “He broke up with me.”

Alfred nodded subtly, “What happened?”

He gazed at him, he could go through the details, but it really wouldn’t make a difference, because… “I don’t know everything got messed up…”

“What did you say to him?” Alfred asked knowingly.

He squirmed, “I… I basically told him… I told him I was with him against my better judgement.”

Alfred harrumphed, “Oh Master Bruce.”

“I know, I shouldn’t have said it.”

“Do you really believe what you said to him?” his old friend asked. Bruce winced. Alfred commented, “All the while you have enjoyed his company you have seemed… content.”

He contemplated Alfred’s words. Had he been content? He wasn’t as stressed that was for sure. He did enjoy his company and not just sexually. He still admired the hero he is. His loyal friend asked, “Do you want it to be over with him?”

He glanced at Alfred. He sighed, “It’s not that simple, I don’t think Clark wants me back.”

“Why do you say that?”

Bruce shrugged and picked at the oily stain on his jeans again, “I think deep down Clark wants a normal relationship, and with me…” he swallowed hard, “I think he’s at the end of his tether, and I don’t blame him.”

“Can I ask sir, why it’s not normal?”

Bruce frowned at his friend’s question.

Alfred gave him a pinch of a smile, “You have never brought him home for one thing.”

He winced and nodded, “I wanted…” he sighed, “I wanted to kept him separate. So he didn’t have to see me being Bruce Wayne, the way I act or the things I do as him.” he laughed humourlessly, “Or Batman for that matter.”

“But he is a superhero too, why…?”

“Exactly, he’s a hero, and he thinks that I’m the same as him. I didn’t want that to change so I tried to keep him separate from those things. I gave him a nice simple version of me to play with instead.”

“And he didn’t know that?”

“That’s what the argument six months ago was about; he thinks he wants all of me.”

Alfred’s eyes narrowed in question.

He ducked his head, “I told him that night that I would stop pretending.”

“However you still didn’t bring him home.”

“I knew I shouldn’t but I let myself be selfish, because I wanted him just for myself, something special just for me.” 

“Have you spoken to him, told him your feelings?”

His feelings…? 

“No, I went there… to his apartment but he wasn’t there… and he hasn’t contacted me since.”

“So that is that, and you will not try again?”

He met Alfred’s gaze and gave him a small begrudging smile.

~*~

He returned to Metropolis and knocked on Clark’s apartment door, again as with the other day, there was no answer. He again used his key to enter. He was concerned when he discovered the place exactly as he left it. He walked over and picked up the untouched note he had left on the coffee table. He knew that Superman hadn’t logged any saves in two days. He wondered aloud, “Where are you Clark?”

Then the answer came to him… 

He had gone to the place where he goes to unwind when the world is closing in, to Bruce that place was here with Clark, however to Clark that place was…

Bruce rode his motorcycle down the long country lane towards the address he had found at the apartment. The last time he was in the area, he would never have dreamed of coming to this place. But times had changed since then. 

He turned down the driveway and into the yard. A red barn was to the side and the farmhouse ahead. He turned off the engine, and kicked down the stand. He climbed off the bike, and removed his black helmet. He left it on the seat. Then he turned towards the farmhouse porch. He stopped on the first step as a handsome older woman opened the door and stepped out. She began, “Can I help you…”

He saw her eyes taking in his jeans and black leather jacket. He ran his hand through his hair self-consciously in case it was messy from wearing the helmet. He greeted her, “Hello Mrs Kent.” 

Her eyes squinted and then her lips kicked up at the edges, she replied, “Bruce Wayne I presume?”

He cleared his throat and glanced away. Wryly, Martha Kent asked him, “Or do you want me to call you Wayne Pennyworth?”

He harrumphed quietly, and then grumbled, “Clark did say you knew everything.”

Martha smiled, “Come on in.”

“Is Clark inside?”

“No he’s in town running an errand, he won’t be long, come in.”

He glanced around the yard and then followed the petite woman inside to the kitchen. He watched her switch on the coffee maker. She got another cup off the rack and placed it ready and then she turned around again and met his gaze. She asked, “So you decided to show your face finally?”

He frowned at the older woman. She saw his confusion, and shook her head with something like amusement. “You’ve been dating my son for a long time now yet you don’t show up here until after you dumped him.”

His eyes widened, and he exclaimed, “I didn’t dump him. He was the one… he’s the one who threw my car on its roof.”

Martha Kent looked shocked at his outburst and then she burst out laughing. “Is that why you’re riding that motorcycle?”

He huffed, “No…”

The years on Martha’s face disappeared as she laughed and Bruce could see the woman she used to be. She pinched her lips and revealed, “I know, it’s not as if you could drive that car of yours to Smallville Kansas without being noticed.”

He winced, “He really has told you everything hasn’t he?”

She shrugged, and eyed him, “I bet not everything.” 

He raised an eyebrow at the innuendo. 

She smiled softly, she offered her hand, “It’s nice to meet you Bruce.”

He took the offered hand, “The pleasure is mine Mrs Kent.”

Martha then said seriously, “I hope you’re here to fix it and not to break it completely.”

“Break it?”

“My son’s heart.”

Bruce swallowed hard at those words. He said honestly, “I don’t know that I’ve got that kind of power.”

“You have, Mr Wayne why do you think Clark came home.”

Was his lover’s mother actually comparing the aftermath of their break up to the aftermath of a battle with a supervillain? He cringed. “Our relationship isn’t… it’s not straightforward, it’s not nice and simple.”

Martha Kent replied, “Loving someone never is.”

He stared at her and didn’t know how to respond to that. She gave him a small knowing smile. He sighed and then he returned it.

Then Martha turned back to the cup on the counter, “How do you take your coffee, Bruce?”

Suddenly the kitchen door opened and the man in question walked in carrying a brown paper sack of groceries. He wondered, “What’s that bike…” Clark stopped in his tracks. They met each other’s gazes. Then Clark demanded, “What the hell do you want?”

After the warm welcome from his mother, his vehemence shook Bruce and his own anger resurfaced, he snarled, “You hurt my damned car!”

Clark’s jaw tensed and he glowered. “Is that all?”

“Now Clark.” Martha rebutted. 

He was glaring at him, but then he glanced at his mom. He swallowed hard. Martha glanced between them, she tried to mediate, “Clark, Bruce came all the way here, you can at least…”

Clark shook his head, and then put down the groceries on the kitchen worktop. Then he turned and walked out the house. Bruce’s gaze followed him. Then he glanced at Martha at a loss of what to do. She motioned with her head, “Go after him.”

“He could be anywhere.”

Martha denied, “He could be but he’s not.”

~S~

Clark paced the floorboards of the loft in the barn. He couldn’t believe the son of a bitch had come here over his car. Clark sat down on the couch, threw his glasses on the old chest, he used as a table and leaned over with his head in his hands. 

He heard the footfalls on the wooden steps. He tensed his jaw ready for what was coming. Then Bruce entered the loft. “Clark?”

He turned his head, and gazed at him with unshed tears in his eyes. “You came all the way here because of your stupid car?”

Bruce muttered, “I don’t know why I’m here.”

Clark sat up and he sniffed, “For someone with your reputation as a charmer you don’t know anything at all about it, do you.”

He replied harshly, “You know that’s Bruce Wayne’s department, and he’s got nothing to do with you.”

How the hell could he say Bruce Wayne had nothing to do with him? The despair over flowed inside him, and Clark slipped into super-speed, and grabbed him by the shoulders and pinned him to a support beam. Bruce gasped at the sudden but careful impact. Clark snarled at him, “I think you don’t even know who you really are.”

Bruce struggled to move but Clark wouldn’t allow it. He shook him instead, and pleaded, “Do you know? Who are you standing here in my barn right now?”

He was shaking his head, and his breathing was harsh. Clark read it in his eyes without speaking. He’d seen it in his eyes the day they met, and he’d seen it the first time they’d made love too. It was that look in his eyes that had made it so he hadn’t been able to forget about him or give up, and maybe that was what had made Clark hold on, even when Bruce danced around his feelings, and put barriers up to stop them getting too close. He’d gone along with his frustrating plans just so he could be with him. 

Whenever he saw that look, he knew he was doing the right thing, that it was worth it, believing that the feelings that those eyes portrayed were… knowing they were a secret part of Bruce and only for him.

He could see them now.

Clark grasped his hips and then he lifted him and pinned him to the beam. Bruce wrapped his legs around Clark’s waist. He whined as Clark took his mouth hard and unrelentingly. He bucked and mewled as Clark thrust hard against him. His cock was rock hard before he knew it. He pulled back barely and his lover gazed at him with desire. 

Clark just pinned him there and he wouldn’t move, and Bruce whined, “Please.”

“Please what?” he whispered.

Clark pressed forward with his crotch but still didn’t move any further. After all this time, he wanted him to tell him with words and not just with his eyes, just once.

“Please fuck me.”

“But we’re over.” Clark stated.

Bruce frowned. His body and mind was clearly in turmoil, and he denied, “No we’re not.”

“You’re only here because you’re addicted to me.” Clark accused.

He told him with neediness, “I might be but I don’t care. We’re not over.”

Clark threatened, “Did you want me to break your ass or break your car.” Bruce knew the threat was a lie. It was obvious to Clark when Bruce licked his own lips eagerly. Clark told him, “I’m going to show you the consequences of breaking up with me.”

Bruce laughed, “God you’re sexy when you’re pissed off.” 

Bruce leaned in and kissed him, his hands cupping Clark’s head. Clark pulled him away from beam and carried him over to the couch. There was no denying his lover’s eagerness when he hurriedly and eagerly struggled to get out of his leather jacket, and then pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed that away too, then his hands were at his zipper and releasing his hard length.

Clark kneeled up, his knees either side of Bruce’s legs, and he started slowly unbuttoning his own plaid shirt. Clark didn’t say anything but held his gaze the whole time. When he’d unbuttoned his shirt, Bruce sat up, and pushed Clark’s shirt from his shoulders and tossed it on the floor. Then his fingers were at Clark’s waistband releasing him also.

Then Bruce leaned back and arched against the couch, and gazed at his body with desire. Then he moaned as his cock flexed against his stomach in anticipation at what Clark had implied doing. “Come on then.”

Clark groaned in return, “Wait…”

His lover gazed up at him from the couch and moaned, “Wait, god I can’t I need you.”

Clark murmured, “We haven’t got any lube.” 

Bruce smirked at him playfully, “Always so careful, I remember once when you wasn’t so careful.”

He remembered but he also remembered that he’d done his best not to hurt him, it was the last thing Clark ever wanted to do, and Bruce knew that. Clark slapped his lover’s ass and hissed, “I’m always careful.”

His lover chuckled hoarsely, “But baby, you promised to break my ass.”

He groaned inwardly with frustration, Bruce Wayne was always determined to have his own way. Superman had a reputation of having a will of iron but with Bruce Wayne, he just couldn’t deny him or himself.

“Bruce.” he groaned.

“You owe me for my car.” He urged.

He gazed down and said sincerely, “I’m sorry about the Batmobile.”

Bruce shrugged it off and smirked, “It needed an overhaul anyway.”

Clark lowered his lashes, at his lover’s magnanimity.

Bruce was watching him intently, trying to gauge his reactions; then Bruce reached up and guided Clark down to him. He kissed him softly, and then whispered huskily, “Like this.”

Bruce’s hands caressed Clark’s back, down to his bare hips, Clark sighed, and Bruce groaned and he began moving, thrusting against Clark, rubbing their crotches together, Clark moaned softly. When Bruce’s hands found and caressed Clark’s bare ass under the denim of his loose jeans, Clark spread his legs, and planted his feet and he synchronised their movements, thrusting his cock alongside Bruce’s. His lover felt his eagerness and grasped at him, and groaned and thrust harder.

Once it started, it went on and on, the thrusting and the breathy cries against each other’s necks. Clark thrust harder until they were rocking the old couch. Bruce grasped his ass and held on, and panted plaintively, “I want you to stop and I never want you to stop, please don’t stop, Clark.”

Clark lifted his head and met his gaze intensely. This version of Bruce Wayne, Clark’s version was no good at flowery platitudes. Sometimes, he said the wrong thing, but sometimes he said, and did things that made other peoples sentiments seem inadequate. He croaked out his name with emotion, “Bruce.”

Then Clark was kissing his lips and thrusting against his strong muscled body making it his whole world, until they saw stars, and euphoria rocked their bodies. As his lover shuddered through his orgasm, Clark followed him over the edge, gasping out his name in pleasure, and reverence. They came against each other’s bare bellies, still sliding together until the whole world stilled. 

Clark lay over him and panted against his neck. Bruce whispered, “That was so good baby.”

Clark murmured into the flesh, “Always is.” 

“Always will be.” Bruce panted in response.

As they recovered, still draped over him, Clark wrapped his arms around him in a loving embrace. 

Eventually, he lifted up, and Bruce sat up and then he slouched down on the couch next to his lover. Then they mirrored each other’s satisfied grin. Bruce noticed that a stray drop of Clark’s come had dripped onto his hip, and Bruce gazed at it, and then wiped it off and brought it to his lips. He met his gaze and tasted it. 

He raised a brow, “I thought you were worried about swallowing my c…” 

His lover grinned and teased, “Your c…come.”

Clark rolled his eyes.

“I did some tests.” Bruce revealed.

He answered quietly, “Yeah?”

“That tiny drop of blood in my system is acting like antibodies.”

He wondered, “You mean my blood is helping you stay healthy?”

Bruce joked, “Yeah, and if you hadn’t chickened out, it might even have helped me heal my broken ass.”

He shook his head with fondness, “You’ve decided to be funny today huh?”

“It’s a good day, Clark.”

“Better than the last two days without you.” he concurred. Then he glanced at him bashfully, “Does this mean we’re back together?”

His lover glanced around at their post-carnal lack of clothes, and smirked, “I’d say so, but I never actually broke up with you, you know.”

He leaned in and kissed him slowly

 

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

TITLE: Verso 3/3  
PAIRING: Clark/Bruce  
AUTHOR: Whiterose  
RATING: Adult  
WORD COUNT: 3,667  
DISCLAIMER: I only own the story.  
SUMMARY: Clark and Bruce have been reunited but will it be forever?

~B~

As they relaxed on the couch in the loft in the barn, he contemplated the last few days. He’d almost lost him, and although he still wasn’t sure that their relationship was a good idea, especially if he did what he was thinking about doing, but he couldn’t deny Alfred’s words, that he was content in Clark’s company. He turned his head and kissed Clark’s forehead. Clark’s eyes fluttered open, he was quiet for a few moments, and then Clark whispered, “You came here for me. I never expected that.”

He replied just as quietly, “I didn’t plan it, when I realised you’d gone home I just came, it seemed like the thing to do.”

Clark smiled, “You see that’s what I mean. You like your rules and your plans.”

He confessed, “I do, but somehow you always make me break them.”

His lover smiled, “I don’t mean to.”

Bruce kissed his forehead again.

Clark told him wistfully, “You know I try to be mild-mannered but you are so frustrating sometimes.”

He smiled, and admitted, “I don’t mean to be.”

His lover turned his head and grinned at him. Bruce began to close in… At that moment, Martha Kent called up as she ascended the loft steps, “I hope there’s been a truce. Is it safe to come up?”

Clark and Bruce both jumped in surprise. They glanced at each other, and then Clark smiled mischievously and called, “Yeah Mom, come up.”

Bruce shook his head and then scrambled off the couch, almost tripping, as he struggled to get his jeans up, he looked up and asked, “What the hell…?” his eyes widened in alarm as he saw his lover was already fully dressed and sitting on the couch watching him in a flap.

He grimaced and fastened his jeans, just in time as Martha Kent entered the loft. She stopped in her tracks when she clapped eyes on him half undressed. Bruce ran his fingers through his hair nervously, and then reached down for his t-shirt that he had discarded earlier. As he straightened up, he saw Martha was still gazing at him. Then her lips kicked up and she said cheekily, “You were right sweetheart, he is something to look at isn’t he?”

Clark sniggered, and Bruce glared at him and then put his t-shirt on over his head. Then Martha cleared her throat and asked, “So I can assume you’ve kissed and made up?”

He fixed the hem of his t-shirt and glanced quickly at Clark. Martha chuckled in response, “I’ll take that as a yes then.” Then she went over to Clark, and ran her hand over his hair and gave him a loving smile. She glanced between them, “So what are your plans now sweetie, are you rushing off?”

Clark met his gaze and raised his brow questioningly, “What do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure.” Bruce admitted.

His lover grinned, “Do you want visit for the rest of the day and go back tomorrow?”

Bruce’s eyes widened and he stumbled over his words, “I… I don’t…” he glanced at Clark’s mom, “I can’t impose.”

Martha Kent insisted, “Nonsense, you can even sleep in Clark’s bedroom if you want.”

Clark cringed and Martha ruffled his hair, “I think it’s too late to tell him to stay away from by son.”

Everything today was out of the blue, and for once, he decided to just go with it. He shrugged, “Sure, okay.”

~S~

Half-asleep half-awake Clark turned over in bed, instinctively keeping to one side of the smaller bed. “One more minute.” Clark mumbled tiredly.

He was almost surprised by the mumbled question, “What time do you have to leave?”

Drowsily, he mumbled, “Huh?”

“What time do you have to go to work?” he was asked again.

“I’m not going to work, we’re in Smallville.”

Then Clark opened one eye, and stared across the pillows and saw his bed mate. He recalled yesterday’s reunion as he saw the dark haired beauty that was sleeping in his bed. 

Bruce still had his eyes closed although he had spoken to him already.

Clark smiled sleepily. He reached out with his forefinger and touched his forehead. Bruce twitched and reached up and knocked his hand away. Clark grinned and began again and traced him from his forehead down his nose, his lips… those lips opened in reaction… Clark traced them again more gently. Clark asked in a sleepy murmur, “You’re so pretty, do you know that?”

Those lips quirked into a smile, “You’d know a lot about pretty wouldn’t you?”

Clark enjoyed the compliment, and he traced his lover’s lips again. Bruce opened his heavy lidded eyes, he murmured against Clark’s fingertip, “Are you trying to ask me something?”

He frowned in momentary confusion, before Bruce covered Clark’s fingertip with his lips and sucked lightly. Clark groaned in realisation. He experimentally thrust his finger in and out of his lover’s mouth, and Bruce held his gaze. Clark murmured, “I wasn’t asking for it.”

His hardening cock thought it was a great idea as it came to life under the sheets. He moved forward, he observed those all too familiar lips. He withdrew his finger lingeringly, and then he caught those lips before they closed and he kissed into that mouth, pushed his tongue into that mouth and then those lips closed around Clark’s tongue and sucked that instead. 

Bruce pulled away and gasped, “What about your mom?”

Clark extended his hearing and found the place deserted, he extended further and found her in town. He revealed, “She’s out, won’t be back for a while.”

Clark gasped as Bruce’s fist closed around his growing erection and squeezed it firmly. He gazed at his lover so close. Bruce told him his voice raspy from sleep, “I’m going to suck your cock.”

He couldn’t find any words, but he wasn’t going to argue, he just nodded. 

Bruce flipped them over quickly, and Clark’s back hit the mattress. Bruce rose up, and the sheets fell off the bed. Naked, they were left open and exposed in the morning sunshine that came in through the window. Bruce gazed down at him, his gaze easily finding Clark’s erection. He moved on the bed, finding a niche between Clark’s legs. Clark watched him, as he quickly got comfortable before Bruce leaned in and licked over the base of Clark’s cock. They both groaned at just that contact. Bruce mouthed him, his tongue running over his balls. Clark let out a low moan and Bruce glanced up and met his gaze, then he ran his tongue up the length of Clark’s erection to the head. Clark breathed heavily, “Do it.”

Bruce played his lips against his glans over and over; it felt wonderful and frustrating at the same time.

“Do it.” Clark told him.

His lover licked at the flesh slowly, and murmured against it, “Do what?”

Clark almost rolled his eyes, he whispered, “Suck it.” Bruce licked the glans again slowly, teasingly and Clark cupped the back of his head and repeated softly, “Suck it.”

In response, Bruce moaned, “Okay.” And then he wrapped his lips around the head and sucked Clark’s cock into his mouth. 

This time Clark did roll his eyes, and his fingers threaded through his lover’s hair and he uttered softly, “Fuck, yeah.”

Bruce hummed around his cock with satisfaction and enjoyment. He glanced up and saw Clark’s ecstasy before he focused on sucking his cock. Clark gazed at the ceiling, at the sunlight coming in through his bedroom window, at Bruce’s dark head bowed, at the ceiling again, anything to keep the delicious torture going for as long as he could. His cock throbbed in the skilful mouth. He glanced down and saw his cock as it was completely engulfed in wet heat. He closed his eyes, and reached back with his free hand and grabbed his pillow tightly. He gasped, “Oh fuck.”

His lover pulled off slowly, and Clark opened his eyes to look. He watched a glob of saliva run down his throbbing hard cock, and felt it slide over his balls. Bruce’s eyes were alight by the morning sunshine. Clark smiled at his lover with reverence, and Bruce smiled back fiercely. Then Bruce took hold of Clark’s thighs and pushed them further apart, he pushed them up and then he bowed his head and he spat against Clark’s ass.

Clark turned his head on the pillow and groaned embarrassingly, he licked his lips and stuttered, “I…I don’t think… not here… I don’t think…”

His jaw was cupped and he turned his head and he found Bruce gazing into his eyes with that look that Clark couldn’t deny there in his own. Bruce leaned in and kissed him. Clark moaned into his mouth and returned the kiss passionately. He whimpered as Bruce’s finger pressed its way into his ass. Bruce licked into his mouth, licked, and thrust his finger in and out. Clark grasped Bruce’s shoulders, at his back, as he panted into his lover’s mouth. 

Bruce whispered secretly to him, “Yes you like that.” Clark groaned in response and Bruce murmured, “Yes?”

Clark shook his head mutely.

“Yes.” Bruce insisted.

He pressed another finger in, it grazed his prostate, and Clark cried out breathily, “Yes.”

Bruce kissed him again and pulled back, sat on his haunches between Clark’s thighs. He continued thrusting his fingers into Clark’s ass. They met each other’s gazes and then Bruce began jerking Clark’s cock along with his fingers in rhythm. Clark groaned and arched against the bed. Bruce demanded quietly, “Spread your thighs, and show me.”

Clark pushed his head back into the pillows, saw the poster of the solar system on his childhood bedroom wall, he bit his lip and uttered, “Oh god.”

“Do it.”

The hand on his cock and the fingers in his ass were driving him crazy, Bruce Wayne was driving him crazy. He bent his knee and he lifted his left leg up. Without taking either of his hands away from him, his lover pressed forward, his chest against the back of Clark’s thigh, keeping him open. Clark’s knee hooked over Bruce’s elbow. Bruce’s cock inches away from his ass. 

Clark gazed up at him; he could feel his own face flushed with arousal. Bruce’s eyes were shining at him and his cheeks were pink too. Bruce’s gaze turned, and then his hands left Clark’s body. The tension was released temporarily, Clark’s cock lay hard, and aching against his stomach and his ass felt empty, needy. Bruce reached over into the nightstand drawer and grabbed the bottle of lotion in there. Clark didn’t bother asking how he knew it was in there, he’d forgotten himself. Then he was slicking his cock with it. Clark laid there in the same position with his leg still over Bruce’s elbow, waiting… waiting for something… something that his ass was telling him he needed, even as his mind was embarrassed to do it in this bedroom in this house.

He reached out and he caressed Bruce’s chest, his abdomen with his fingertips. When Bruce ran his hand down Clark’s thigh, Clark returned his gaze to his face, his eyes. Then Bruce turned his head and kissed the skin at Clark’s knee. Then with his other hand, he grasped his own slick cock and he lined up and pressed in. 

Clark whined at the entrance, and growled seconds later at the careful withdrawal. Bruce rumbled, “You like that?”

Clark reached out, grasping Bruce’s neck and he dragged him to him, taking his mouth hard. The motion pulled Bruce back deeper inside. Bruce cried out into Clark’s mouth and his hand grabbed Clark’s free leg and pushed it up over Bruce’s shoulder, so both his legs were caught and spread. Clark cried out, at the wicked position, the fullness he was feeling, Bruce’s mouth still hard on his.

As Bruce started thrusting hard, delving his cock deep in his ass, Clark’s hands grabbed him, his head, then his back, his shoulders, and then finally his ass.

Then Bruce was muttering, cursing or maybe he wasn’t saying anything, just noises, just sounds of desire. But then Bruce was panting against his lips, “What… Clark what…what are you saying?”

Clark growled and kissed him again, as he realised it was him making the sounds, him who was totally incoherent. He growled against his lover’s lips, “Fuck me, Bruce, I need you to fuck me.”

As his lover did as he was asked, Clark wanted it to stop, and he wanted it to never end. But eventually end it did, it ended with sweat, and spit and come. 

Afterwards Clark lay there panting, staring at Bruce in subdued awe. His lover was lying beside him on his bed recovering too, sweaty and glorious. His cock still dripping with come he had left in Clark’s ass. Clark reached out as he had done before and he traced his features. He murmured, “You’re mine.” 

He saw Bruce swallow hard, but he didn’t argue.

Clark told him, “You still might not understand, you might not accept it, but you’re mine.”

Bruce let out a hard steady breath but he still didn’t argue. 

~B~ 

Bruce lay on the bed, naked and senseless. He could feel his lover still watching him. He swallowed hard against the implications of Clark’s words. He couldn’t argue with his assessment. He couldn’t imagine anyone or anything better than what he’d just experienced with him although all their previous sexual encounters were pretty darn good. Good enough for Bruce to seek out a liaison with him, more than a one night stand and he’d certainly gotten that. It had become more than a series of trysts too.

He’d gotten something else.

He remembered, their argument, when Bruce had questioned their relationship, when he’d considered the possibility that Clark’s blood had somehow overrode his own judgement, creating a craving, a need for him. He remembered how that blood had gotten into his system in the first place. It was because he had not been able to resist his instant attraction to the bloody battle injured hero that he was in the process of saving, and he’d kissed him. Bruce smiled in realisation. The blood hadn’t caused the need and attraction; it was already there from the moment he’d looked into his stunning eyes.

Bruce turned his head and gazed into those stunning eyes that were gazing at him, still with an as yet unnamed look in them. He leaned in and kissed his lover. Then he bowed his head, and he kissed his chest. His lips discovered the come that had landed over Clark’s muscled torso as his lover had come hard for him. Bruce ran his tongue through it and groaned at the taste of it, and then he set about finding every drop of it on his lover’s body, it wasn’t a bad way of spending morning.

~*~

Later Bruce gazed up at Martha who was standing on the porch. He asked, “Are you sure about this, it seems rude to go out when we’re supposed to be visiting?”

Martha nodded, “I’m sure, as long as you’re home for lunch.”

Bruce smiled a little bashfully, “I haven’t been told that in a very long time.”

The older woman gazed at him knowingly, “Play this hand that you’ve been dealt right, and it won’t be the last time.”

He glanced away at his motorcycle, and then slung his leg over and sat astride it. He picked up his helmet and wondered, “What is taking the guy with super-speed so long?”

The screen door opened, and then the man in question exited. Bruce raised an inquisitive brow as he saw his boyfriend’s attire. Clark had somehow found some biker boots and a leather jacket and was wearing them. Bruce noticed the lack of glasses, before a rumble of approval left his throat. 

Clark met his gaze, and then smirked at him as he saw his attraction written clearly on his face. Bruce murmured, “Where did you find those, at the back of your closet?”

His boyfriend’s mother replied, “Actually he did.”

~S~

Clark walked past his mom and down the porch steps and over to his boyfriend. Bruce murmured, “You look good.”

He smiled with pride at the flattery. Then Bruce asked, “Where are your glasses?”

He patted his jacket pocket, “Just in case we bump into anyone.”

Bruce ran his eyes over him again, before saying, “It’s a pity you have to cover that face with a helmet.”

Clark shrugged, “I could say the same about you, and your cowl.”

His boyfriend gave him a small pleased smile that Clark returned, their gazes lingering on each other. They were broken out of their moment as his mom, chuckled, “Oh my gosh, you two.” 

They both glanced at her and then back to each other. They gazed at each other again, and then Bruce smirked at him, “Come on let’s go.” Then he put on his helmet.

He told his mom, “See you in a bit Mom.”

Bruce started it up as Clark put on his helmet and then he approached the motorcycle, and climbed on behind his boyfriend. Then they set off hightailing it down the country lanes of Smallville.

Clark held on as he enjoyed the ride, compared to his own speed the bike did nothing, but it didn’t stop Clark from revelling in it, holding onto Bruce, and hearing his lover’s heartbeat speeding up, as it thrilled him.

~*~

He didn’t realise they had a destination until they came to the lane for Crater Lake, and Bruce turned off onto it. 

As the bike came to a stop, Bruce switched it off, kicked down the stand and they both climbed off. Clark pulled off his helmet and then asked, “I didn’t think you could remember your way here, we only came here once.”

His lover pulled his own helmet off and laid it on the seat. He met his gaze and smiled smugly, “I can remember anything I want to.”

He blurted, “You’ve got an eidetic memory?”

Bruce shrugged, “Yeah.” Clark snickered and Bruce asked, “What’s so funny.”

Clark smiled smugly, “I guess it was harder for you to forget about me than I thought, huh?”

His beau leaned in and kissed him, and then whispered, “I bet you’ve got a super memory too.”

Clark closed his lips over Bruce’s and hummed in confirmation. They pulled back slowly and gazed at his other, and then Bruce broke away and strolled over to the wooden dock. Clark glanced around and then followed him over. Bruce sat down and made himself comfortable. He took a seat next to him, and asked curiously, “Why are we here?”

Bruce blinked slowly, and gazed out at the lake. “I remember the first time we were here. Things were simple that day.”

He nodded along, “Only an hour later it wasn’t so simple.”

“I thought a lot about the choices we made that day. The choices that I made…”

Clark stayed quiet; it was unusual for Bruce to get philosophical, well in front of anyone else that was. So he listened. 

“I wonder if we hadn’t found out each other’s secret identities… I wonder if I could have forgotten about you.”

He hadn’t thought about it, but he knew that if he had let himself share something with the man he had met here in Smallville there would’ve been a special place in his heart for him. As he had told Bruce at the time, he found it hard to separate his desires and his emotions.

Clark glanced around at the same wooden dock that he and Wayne Pennyworth had made out on. He returned his gaze to his lover, he didn’t know if Bruce wanted a response or not. 

He remembered Bruce’s proposition of a one night stand and the playful seduction he attempted here on this dock. Clark had been charmed by him but definitely not in the suave way of Bruce Wayne playboy. Wayne Pennyworth had been a good looking, and down to earth guy and he had a kind of innocence about him even as he sat astride him on this dock. Clark knew after all this time, and even with all the baggage Bruce carried around, he really was that innocent. 

Still gazing at the beautiful lake side view, Bruce blew out a hard breath, and then his lips quirked at the edges, “Your mom thinks that we’re in love.”

He swallowed hard at that nugget of information, and he didn’t know what to say. He’d always known that, he’d told Bruce a long time ago that if he didn’t get it, he would have to figure it out through experience. Sometimes it felt as if he’d finally gotten there and sometimes it didn’t.

Suddenly his boyfriend laughed lightly and then he lay back against the wooden planks of the dock and stared up at the fluffy white clouds in the sky. 

Clark sniggered softly and then he lay down next to his boyfriend and gazed up at the clouds too. Then Clark felt it as Bruce’s hand reached out and took hold of his. Clark smiled at the sun in the expanse of blue, and closed his fingers around his lover’s and held on.

It might be hard work but Clark had no intention of letting go.

His lover recalled, “You told me that I am yours.”

Clark nodded, “Yes.”

Bruce told him gutturally, “You’re mine Clark.”

Clark leaned his head against his, and confirmed, “I know that, Batman.”

Bruce shook his head and smiled, “Next weekend, I want you to come home with me to Wayne Manor.”

 

The end of Verso and the end of the Well Versed series.


End file.
